Teddy and the Tyrannosaur

Good sir, I must warn you that my services are costly, but your adventure will certainly stand the test of time. I will need a deposit and a binding guarantee of secrecy. My clientele includes only a select few gentlemen of high esteem who can experience wonder in obscurity.

Take for instance, Mr. Roosevelt. Why yes, Teddy Roosevelt himself! I came into his circle shortly after the whole hullabaloo with the election in 1912.

I told him exactly what I’m telling you now, “If you wish to brag and boast, look elsewhere. You may reveal to no one a word about our excursion. I take this vow seriously, for if news of this contraption were to reach the public there would be panic in the streets.”

Do you know what Mr. Roosevelt said to me? He said, “In this life, there is nothing left for me to boast about.” What a man! And it’s true! He still had a bullet in his chest from the assassin’s attempt on his life. He could’ve been President a third time if the United States deserved him. There was nobody on the planet who dared to question Teddy Roosevelt’s brawn or bravado, and he knew it.

Perhaps that was what drew him to my proposal. Here was a chance to top it.

See… this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to step back in time on a safari to the distant past, to put a great hunter like yourself up against the terrible behemoths and leviathans that God wiped out. You’ve seen the exhibits in the Natural History Museum. Have you noticed how children look at those monsters? There’s joy and terror in their eyes. Now imagine seeing them in the flesh.

Dinosaurs are truly the most dangerous game, good sir, from eons before men took our place atop the food chain. Their world is savage and merciless. If you think yourself worthy, take aim, prove yourself and bring them down first.

I’ll tell you, Teddy gave me the exact same look you’re giving me now, only through those spectacles and over that mustache of his. Am I a mad man? Yes. But so are all men. He had no fear when I took him through the gate. Will you show fear? When you breathe in that primordial air, sixty million years from home, will you turn back? He didn’t. Or will you take up your weapon and join in the hunt? There’s nothing like it. To feel that vigor for life and for death.

The lost world is a strange land, my good sir. It’s uncharted, save for the crude maps I’ve sketched out myself. The sky is pale with haze, and the young sun beats down on you. It’s wet and lush, like the tropics, and the land is overgrown with all kinds of uncanny vegetation. Then, of course, there are the distant sounds of all those nameless beasts.

Teddy became enamored with the flocks of pterosaurs flying above the palm trees. If you don’t know them, these are big ol’ flying reptiles that glide on leathery wings. He spent about an hour watching them in silence as they came and went. Teddy wasn’t just a hunter, you see. He had a special love for the theater of the natural world, and unlike other hunters with a more devious lust for death, he’d just spend long stretches of time admiring these animals.

Then, once he had memorized their movements, Teddy aimed and shot one dead.

The body of that fallen pterosaur was of keen interest to him. They’re devilish creatures akin to dragons of ancient myth. I wouldn’t be surprised to see flames leap from their fanged beaks. Sensing his thrill, I had to remind him, “There can be no trophies or war stories to take home, Mr. Roosevelt.”

To which he replied, clutching my shoulder, “That’s well and good. That’s not why we’re here.”

I admired that.

As the day progressed, we traversed through marshes and wetlands, quietly cherishing the oddities of this lost world. Do you know how big dragonflies can get? Back then, they were the size of eagles.

Our friendly chat came to an abrupt end. He’d caught sight of a tremendous, long-necked Brontosaur looming in the far mist, silhouetted like a living mountain.

Now, I should let you know that no hunter I’ve taken on a prehistoric safari has been skilled enough to bring down one of these giants. Some fools have tried, but we’ve always had to make a hasty retreat. These creatures are enormous, with bodies four times the size of an African elephant, and hide five times as thick, I’d wager.

The men who join me on these adventures are often overcome with the jitters facing these monsters. They tower above us, even the small ones. They may seem like slow, lumbering hills of flesh, but they will not hesitate to crush us. Just like elephants, when they are threatened, there is nothing to stop them from quite literally throwing their weight around. They put our place in this world into perspective. We are tiny things.

But Teddy was not overcome with fear.

At first, I couldn’t tell if it was due to the man’s bravery or his stupidity, but he was steady and calm the entire time he circled that titan. He patiently found a safe position downwind from the great beast, then he took even longer to find his aim. He was silent the whole time.

Suddenly, where Teddy knelt in the tall grass, there was a clap and puff of smoke, and the Brontosaur’s enormous weight crashed into the water. I saw its neck stretching into the sky. I deduced the bullet must’ve pierced its eye and gone straight into its skull. Then it fell like a ribbon. I’d never seen anything like it, the death of this giant.

Teddy let out a triumphant holler! Of course, I was stunned. I had to ask him how he did it.

He only claimed. “I hit where I meant to hit.” He was elated, and he smiled from ear to ear as he surveyed the gargantuan specimen. I imagine he would’ve appreciated a photograph of that moment, or some trophy to signify his conquest. I know I would have. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

The day was coming to a close. If Teddy wanted to end his journey, then and there, our hunt would’ve been a smashing success. But I will let you in on a secret, good sir. Teddy wanted more. He wished to track one of the apex predators in the ecosystem. The tyrant lizard king. Tyrannosaurus Rex.

I knew a handful of safe spots in the nearby cliffs, and hidden in the rocky outpost we set up camp. There, we planned tomorrow’s course. During my previous expeditions, I had discovered a game trail where you can often find a lone Tyrannosaur guarding its kill for days on end, occasionally feasting and picking the bones. That’s what we would search for.

Then came night. And let me tell you, even if you’ve found yourself a shelter, when the sun sets and the distant howls of prehistoric beasts serenade the darkness, the human mind torments you. We slept restlessly, and Teddy was no doubt excited by the prospect of the next day’s hunt.

When we couldn’t sleep, we talked and watched the stars.

I forget what prompted it, perhaps we were recounting the Brontosaur, but something Roosevelt said that night stuck with me.

He said, “I am not a prodigious marksman, although I’ve trained hard enough to compete among those more exceptional than myself. But the true test of a man is in his fortitude to steady himself in the face of overwhelming forces. It’s a skill I’ve been practicing since I was a boy. I’ve thrown myself into danger and taught my body and my mind to overcome that primal fear. I still feel it whenever I need to stand in front of a crowd and deliver a speech. But once a man can brace himself, shooting dangerous game is no different than shooting a soda can for target practice.”

The next day we set out on the game trail. We took that journey step-by-step, slowly and carefully, for we knew that our prey was terribly dangerous. Between the broken branches and the blood, we followed a promising route off into the veldt.

Then a foul pile of scat alerted us.

Our Tyrannosaur was near.

We stumbled upon the monster, nearly by accident. His massive reptilian form was cleverly hidden beside a thicket. He was hunched over the carnage of some poor brute. Hell, you could hear the death from a mile away. The whole area was swarming with flies. If I tried to recount the smell, I could not do it justice. But I remember clearly the Tyrannosaur’s head was sodden with blood. I’d never seen one of these animals that looked so grotesque.

Lucky us, the wind was in our favor. The cruel creature would’ve slaughtered us immediately if we’d walked up on it in the wrong direction. We were closer than I’d preferred. You could hear the gnashing of teeth and the crunch of bone, and every step the thing took was like distant thunder.

Teddy knelt and found his aim. He took his time again, and I tried to count how long it took in heartbeats. I could feel my blood hammering in my veins.

Maybe fifty beats in, I thought I saw the tyrant spot us.

It paused its feast and those beady, black eyes settled right upon us. The thing even stood upright, and its blood-soaked head glistened in the high sun.

Yes. It was looking down on us.

At last, Teddy fired his rifle. There was that puff of smoke.

And can you believe it?

The man missed his shot.

I don’t think I’ve ever sprinted as fast as I did that day! We abandoned our gear and anything weighing us down, so somewhere in the strata you might find my camping stove fossilized among the beasts!

We found shelter and reconsidered our options.

After we caught out breath, I asked, “Shall we try for round two?”

“Maybe best we leave them alone, as God intended.” He said, and I’ll admit I was relieved.

As we spoke, the young sun was setting over the plains, and I began preparations to bring us back to our modern day. Teddy stood watch, and I think I felt sad for him, that his time was coming to an end.

He thanked me for the experience and told me, “I came with you to throw myself into danger once again, to see how far my mind and body could go. I’ve faced men in war, enemies abroad, and even the hatred of my friends. But this was different. I failed my test back there. Maybe the human body cannot fare against this world.” He said that with a distinct sense of awe.

I was curious why he didn’t even try to take a second shot at the Tyrannosaur, but then I understood the man. Here he was, an American legend, who had steadied himself against all the wonders of the world, but at last he’d met his match.

Teddy believed wars and hunts allowed boys to become men, but I believe they also allow men to become boys again. I know he would concede that, as well. And for a brief moment, I know all that grand bravado and insane masculinity fled in the face of certain death. Think of those children in the museum, and the way they look up to these mighty animals.

Maybe it’s our last chance to live out the fantasies of our boyhood. Maybe that’s what we long for when we go on these mad journeys into the great unknown, so far from our civilized world.

Teddy Roosevelt’s life was full of myth and legend. Who knows if anything I’ve told you is true? But I wager you’d like to find out.

So, what do you say, good sir? There’s only so much time left. Would you like to join me for an adventure?